


Fear Borne of Curiosity

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Series: #666foryou [382]
Category: Damien (TV)
Genre: Character Development, Childhood Memories, Fear, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-19 04:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8190737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: Just the thought of being trapped in the dark like that was bad enough, I didn't want it to actually happen again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Date Written: 1 October 2016  
> Word Count: 820  
> Prompt: "Wintering" by Sylvia Plath  
> Summary: Just the thought of being trapped in the dark like that was bad enough, I didn't want it to actually happen again.  
> Spoilers: Pre-series speculation and backstory. Beyond that, everything we learned in these 10 episodes is up for grabs.  
> Warnings: No standard warnings apply.  
> Series: #666foryou  
> Series: Ariel  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo  
> Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/  
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…  
> Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "Damien," "The Omen," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Glen Mazzara, David Seltzer, 20th Century Fox Television, Fox 21, and A&E Television Networks. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Damien," "The Omen," A&E, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: This was me totally turning that bit with Veronica and the flashlight in episode 01x09 "The Devil You Know" into an actual thing from her past, possibly even a low key phobia. Okay, it's probably more than low key, but you get my point.
> 
> Dedication: This is part of a series of stories to thank the phenomenal creative team of _Damien_ , both in front of and behind the camera.
> 
> Beta: theonlyspl

"This is the room I have never been in  
This is the room I could never breathe in."  
\-- Sylvia Plath, "Wintering"

 

For the longest time, she wouldn't let me in. It was her _sanctum sanctorum_ , her private shrine to the son she wanted more than anything in the world. I wanted to see what was so special about him, what made him more deserving of her love and attention than me. It pushed me to do better in school, wanting the praise she heaped on him. It didn't matter that I never met him, he was my big brother and he was better than I was.

When I was about eight years old, she left me home with a sitter while she attended one of her fancy black tie events with Uncle John and Auntie Margot. This was a new sitter, someone recommended by one of her coworkers from what I later found out. So Mom went through the whole spiel with both of us of what was and wasn't allowed in the house while she was gone. I didn't like this girl, and immediately felt uncomfortable around her for some reason. When I tried to explain it, Mom chided me for being silly, kissing me on the forehead with a reminder to go to bed on time.

The sitter ended up being just as useless as I expected. She ate far more than she was allowed to, and sat on the phone with her friends while she watched movies. I was completely ignored, and she denied each request I had for a snack that Mom said I could have. When she became engrossed in some stupid slasher movie, I took advantage of her lack of attention.

It was difficult to open the secret door in the library, but I managed somehow. I took a flashlight with me to stave off the darkness that terrified me so much. It felt like forever before I was down in that special shrine of hers. I glanced around at everything, not that there was a whole lot down there at the time. The collection would take practically my entire life to amass. I wanted to ride the tricycle so badly. It was red, and shiny, and just _perfect_. But if anything was out of place, Mom would know I'd disobeyed and snuck down there, so I just looked around and tried to memorize what I found.

I don't know how long I was down there before the sudden clap of thunder scared me, even down in the basement as I was. It had been raining off and on all day, leaving me cooped up inside. Looking back, it's clear that my boredom was what made me ignore Mom's direct orders. So when the power went out after the next roll of thunder, I stifled a scream and fumbled to turn on my flashlight. It helped a bit to make me feel less afraid in the dark.

Until the batteries died. The light slowly faded and grew smaller until I was left in total darkness. I swore I could hear creepy things scuttling around, and kept waiting to be grabbed or bitten by one of them. I tried to muffle my cries, still not wanting to get into trouble, and began to worry about the door closing behind me at the top of the steps. What would happen if I was locked in down there? Would that stupid sitter even notice I was missing? Would she tell Mom that I just went to bed? Would Mom believe her and not even realize I was gone until the next morning?

I never made as many promises as I did that night, huddled in a tiny ball in the dark, windowless room. I don't know when I fell asleep, but the next thing I knew, Mom was there to scoop me up in her arms. Even half-asleep, I recognized her scent and the feel of her shoulder under my cheek. I clung to her, tears slipping down my face again, as she carried me upstairs. It wasn't until we were back in the library that I realized the lights were on again. Mom took me straight upstairs to the bathroom to wash my face, then helped me change into clean pajamas. She settled next to me in my bed, murmuring softly and holding me as I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up still curled up against her chest. We didn't talk about what had happened the night before, except for my tearful apologies for disobeying her. Mom didn't punish me either. I think she knew that my fear was punishment enough.

I never went back into that basement alone again unless it was broad daylight out and I propped the door open. Just the thought of being trapped in the dark like that was bad enough, I didn't want it to actually happen again.


End file.
